


Fire Signs and Family Business

by JackOfDecks, sweetvamp96



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/M, Mafiastuck
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-30
Updated: 2014-04-07
Packaged: 2017-12-21 20:34:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/904613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JackOfDecks/pseuds/JackOfDecks, https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetvamp96/pseuds/sweetvamp96
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even if it is still a work in progress, the tale follows Equius Zahhak, a blueblood inhabitant of the city of Rankot, and an enforcer for the land-dwelling mafia since the night he left the brooding caverns. Aradia Megido eked out a living running an antiques shop in the city slums, selling off goods that were more likely than not dug up by her hands. Guns were drawn at the storefront between the noble and teal law enforcers, forcing him to snatch her away in the ensuing chaos, both of them struggling to keep away from the eye of the rival sea-dwellers and the ever-present eye of the law.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. EXTRA EXTRA READ ALL ABOUT IT

In the shantytown outskirts of Rankot City a massive gun battle took place between several members of the notorious crime family and the Rankot Police Force. Several eyewitnesses were present for this bloody shootout.

 

“Yeah I saw what happened. Some <expletive> in a fancy suit came up to Megido Treasures a couple hours after sundown. He rolled up in a <expletive> limo, so he was pretty <expletive> high when it came to blood. Dude looked over six <expletive> feet tall, and pretty <expletive> young. Couldn’t see his face though, he was wearin' some <expletive>'s shady hat and covering it. From my side of the window it didn't look like he was gonna buy. Some other car pulls up, nothing like that limo but it was still a <expletive> shock in these <expletive> slums. Couple minutes later she walks up to the <expletive> and talked. Just <expletive> talked, nothing else.”

 

We now have reason to believe this apparently innocent exchange was a bribe given to the owner of Megido Treasures to guarantee her silence. Due to the everpresence of the Mob in this once-peaceful town, certain exchanges between mafioso and other establishments must be kept secret, despite their occurence away from the public eye. The paying off of any troll that may be a witness is, aside from a genuine culling, is the most certain way to make ensure anything that happens remains hidden. These bribes must be taken with the knowledge that anyone that dealing with the family means the noose of the tealbloods is already around their neck, ready for their hanging at the hands of a legislacerator. At the crime scene a briefcase was found filled to the brim with money. The total contained in this briefcase is not yet known, but the most reasonable estimates are in the range of thirty to sixty thousand. According to another eye wittiness there where “about three more cars looking like tealblood police cars” pulled up along the shops streets.

 

“Yeah, dude opened up the case and it was <expletive> stuffed with cash. Looked like they were making some kind of deal that was going south pretty <expletive> fast. Then outta nowhere I hear the teals go ‘How about you send that little shop owner behind you across? That way we both know the other isn't trying to cut the other.’ So I did what anyone with brains in their thinkpan would do and got my <expletive> the <expletive> out.”

 

Based on evidence gathered from the numerous observers, it has been concluded that no negotiation was reached between the police and the unknown representative. The representative decided against sending shop owner Aradia Megido to the police to make the exchange. Most evidence points to this suggestion by the police force being the primary reason behind the gunfire. The tealblooded police force has released some information about the representative, namely his status as an indigoblood. The gun battle did not take up a particularly large amount of time, as everyone present at the scene was found dead. The only exceptions are shop owner Aradia Megido and the indigoblooded representative sent to make the exchange. Based on as-of-yet-unreleased evidence, the police force have released a statement expressing their belief that the mafioso kidnapped Miss Megido and fled the scene. Even she was not left unscathed after this brutal show of rivalry, traces of her blood (which is known to be burgundy) having been foundbehind the counter with what remains of the shop in ruin. And now we are left with these questions:

 

Why did the indigoblood take the shop keeper and not kill her?

 

Who is behind all of this?

 

Why were no attempts made for their apprehension?


	2. Journal #1

Despite knowing what I would find on the front page, I purchased a newspaper on my way through the city. As expected, the shootout at the antiques store was the cover story.   
Seeing that was all I had the stomach for. All I felt at that moment was shame that I allowed a miniscule dispute such as that to escalate into a front-page story.  
Such a massive breakdown of structure would not go unpunished. I know for certain the Highblood will have me put through a suitable punishment for thrusting the family into the public stage. Even if our activities have reached the press in the past, not an individual outside the family knows who runs this city from behind the curtains.

The thought of the rustblood still refused to leave my mind at the time, and she seems to have carved out a space for permanent residence.   
Even if I was the one that brought her here, the reasons behind that act elude me. The courtesy of leaving a lady in such a place may have been part of it, as well as the necessity of keeping her silent. The more definite alternative meant her death, and I am grounded in my belief that the spilling of blood over business should not be done unless its necessity is concrete. Against the popular belief of many other members of this family, the Highblood is not nearly as lenient with me as them.

Prior to this writing, she had been housed in the the small keeping room for the few days since our return to the manor.   
Before tonight, she had not spoken a word since her arrival.

Her lodging in my thoughts meant that I felt some small amount of pity for her, and I knew that three days without food would be difficult even for one who spent her days since the brooding caverns in the slums.   
I decided to take the initiative and bring her a small meal, enough to keep her healthy and uncomplaining for some while. I examined the room connecting to hers and took a short glance up and down the adjacent hall, making certain that no observers were present or would be. Following that short reassurance, I pushed open the unmarked door to her current accomodations. Despite having gained some amount of control over the strength of my hands, I was unable to avoid the leaving of a definite impression of my grip.  
As the door swung open to the fullest extent its hinges would allow, I finally caught sight of her. Her sweeps in the slums had granted her a deal of agility, which she was in the process of employing to move herself from the bench to the furthest corner of her away from me to the far corner of the room. It was a small room, 8 feet by 8 feet so it would not have helped much in getting away from me anyways. Her eyes, even if they did not meet mine, still showed some emotional clash of serenity and dread.  
Such a contradiction was something practically unknown to rustbloods. The stolen glances of her eyes betrayed the hunger in her stomach, but she retained enough control to make no move for what I held, even as the plate was gently released from my hands and onto the metallic bench we had given her as a makeshift bed. Even as her stomach growled and made her want of food audible, she had not made any motion in the slightest towards what I had brought.

Noting her fright of me, my stern voices reassured her with something along the lines of “I have no plans to bloody my hands with the likes of you.”  
Her response? “Then why did you grab me and bring me here?”   
“I explained that before I brought you here.”  
“It would have been easier to kill me. I am a slum-dwelling lowblood. Not a troll in this city cares about me.”  
“Did you not notice the inherent courtesy of my refusal to send you into harm's way?”   
She looked down at the bench she was seated on, nodding in silent agreement.  
“That courtesy destroyed my livelihood.” Even if she had not intended to, she spat as she spoke. My experience with insubornation prevented this from doing any more than irking me.  
I assured her, “Regardless of my acceptance or refusal of the offer, your shop would have been levelled. All I did was make your survival a certainty.” My voice may have been too harsh, as she flinched from the small motion of my nudging the tray towards her. As I stood and stepped out, I would have sworn on my loyalty to the highbloods that I heard a small "thank you" before I closed the door.

When I closed the door I noticed one of the olivebloods out here, and The Family’s best sharpshooter he was too. He did not look happy, but granted when did he ever look happy? Or even slightly amused.   
He growled at me. “And just what the hell were you doing in there?” I have no idea if this some sort of mood or his default state of mind.   
I spat back at him, “Watch your tongue, buffoon. You have no right to question me. This family has a great many foes we pay you to dispose of. Insolence may lead you onto the very same list as them.” His horns were massive; nothing could hide them unless he was to wrap his head in gauze. That would make him an easy target. There was always the possibility of him wrapping his head in gauze, but such actions might actually improve the look of his face.   
“Yeah, and I'M the idiot for wondering why you keep a liability around.” He was in that passive-aggressive tone of voice that made me want to turn his skull to dust.  
“I am not a liability, and neither is she! If anything, I am the backbone of this family, protecting it from insubordinate whelps with mouths too big for what they're worth." My voice resonated throughout the room, furthering the sting of my words.  
“How ignorant can you be? Since when does protection mean that anyone with a printing press has what you did on the front page?”

At precisely the wrong moment, a knock came from inside the door to the rustblood's accomodations. Incensed as I was, my hand slammed on the door with enough force to make it ring. Momentarily forgetting whatever pity I held, I shouted “Quiet, you!” into her room. Her reply was a sharp yelp, leading to a silence that was far too long for any sane troll to feel comfortable in.   
"I-I was only notifying you that I had finished with the food... and..." She paused. Her voice was barely audible, but I heard it nonetheless. "I... have to pee." I took a small, exasperated breath and shook my head before turning to the door. Opening the door for the second time that, I find my eyes locked into hers, a small sigh escaping my black lips.   
“At least try and be less lewd about such things.”  
“Sorry, would you rather I state I must use the facilities?” It was only as she spoke these words that she began to rise from the bench and actually take a look at me. Of course, she was still too frightened to meet my eyes, and so preferred the sort of look that made me think she was trying to see something through me.  
My only reply was a stark "Yes."  
“I’ll remember that.”  
I turned, noting that our insufferable killer-for-hire hadn't recognized his chance to duck out. I pointed to him and then nodded.   
“Show her their location.”   
Even after days in the security of the manor, the shaking of the gun battle in front of her store had not left her.

Since I had been able to stand upright, I had been running errands for the Family. This sudden shift of life and side of the law from her old situation must have been nothing less than jarring.   
Our "mercenary" oliveblood grumbled something under his breath and gave her a wave, indicating he would be her guide whether he liked it or not. He did slow his arrogant stride in the least, preferring a pace that seemed as if he was trying to get her lost and punished for wandering the halls.  
She quickly scurried out of the room, away from me and after him. After a few minutes of my solitude in that room had passed, I traced their course and relieved the oliveblood of having to attend to her. She finally exited almost ten minutes after my arrival, which prompted me to stand and give her a glare cold as stone.  
“What possible reason could you have to remain there for such a length of time?”  
Her face gave a small turn towards that dark shade of the lowest blood there is, and her eyes shifted to the floor without a sign of returning. If the look on her face was anything to go by, she was greatly embarrassed. Regardless of her current emotional state, I remained firm, both in stance and tone. She mumbled something or another, so I let it pass for the most part.  
“Out with it. Keeping secrets here is no way to last very long.” My tone remained stern as I verbally illustrated how she could retain her life. All received the same unfliching intonations, with the exception of those few the highbloods deemed too fragile for it.   
“Other extremities had to come too...” The darkening of her face and slow pace of her speech made her embarassment and unwillingness to continue evident.  
“I will allow you to end this line of conversation.”  
“Th-thank you, sir...” Before I turned to leave her, I noticed her biting her lower lip. She seemed dead set on following me.  
“Do you have anything else to say?”

Almost as if in response to my turning, her hands darted behind her back her eyes resumed their steadfast floor gazings. Even if her wavy hair had fallen and obscured her face, I had seen that look once before, when I was convincing her that coming to the manor was her best hope.  
“No sir," was all that came from her meek mouth.   
“I find myself holding a peculiar amount of doubt for that. You face tells the tale quite well. Now say it and be done with it.”  
“I-I am just scared is all... sir. More something that should be kept to myself unless asked for in such a manner you have sir.”  
“Fear does not equate to the very plain embarrassment on your face.”  
“It's... from being put on the spot like this.”  
“Explain to me how this is you being placed ‘on the spot.'”  
“I am used to being walked upon, ignored and shunned by those of your blood. Being called to attention is just... new for me... I am used to being a girl in the background and behind a counter. Not front and center as I am now, sir. Serious questioning on matters such as the reasons behind my delays in the restroom just makes it... unbelievably embarrassing...”  
“Then perhaps you should take care of these affairs in a more timely manner. If you were to get too inquisitive here, it would be the end of you.”   
“The... the food you so graciously allowed me to eat is drastically different from my usual diet. Please, don't take that as, complaining sir, it was quite good and I do thank you... perhaps it would be for the better if I kept quiet now.” Her last few words came faster than rounds from one of the family's trademark firearms, as if she scared out of her wits I would react and cut her off. She bit her lip once more, as if to ensure she would say nothing more.   
“Perhaps you should return to your accommodations.”   
“I agree. Sorry for wasting your time, sir.”  
“At least you understand how to address your superior.”  
“Especially when that superior has the means to end my life without a scrap of regret.”

Despite my best instincts, this remark hit in exactly the manner she had not intended. My visage twisted towards anger, but I knew if I was to slap her it would have broken her brittle neck. As much trouble as that would have saved, having her blood on my hands would be a torment for whatever sweeps this life gave me. My hands balled into fists, then became loose again as I inhaled deeply. Her eyes were shut to a point that looked almost painfully tight, as if she expected the blow to land at any moment. After a few dragging moments, she nodded, opening her eyes and looking up, her gaze settling on her surroundings rather than me.   
“C-can I ask when I will be let go, sir?” She was shy almost to a fault at this point. Her body shook, giving her an unnecessary appearance of fright.   
I just shook my head before I just sighed. “Even the head of The Family has no knowledge of such things.”   
Her only reply was a single nod, almost as if to make sure she heard me right. When I failed to respond, she continued with “I guess... I'm still forced to stay in that tiny room, aren’t I?” She seemed to have realized the words that came from between her mouth and brought her hands up to cover her face. A small sigh came from between those hands followed by a whimper. My expression softened almost undiscernably, but it retained its look of sternness.   
“You will be moved to a furnished room within the hour.” I informed her.  
“R-really?! Thank you, very much s-!” she exclaimed. Her excitement and overflowing joy came out in her words, but I was forced to cut her off with a shake of my head.  
“Save your breath.” I cut in before she could finish.

She slapped an almost unimaginably delicate hand over her mouth and nodded. “It was still so gracious of you to do that. For... your captive, no less.”  
“Those who mistreat guests will find themselves on the other end of the barrel eventually. Experience has taught us the best choice is to provide guests what is expected, as well as a small something more.”  
“So, until I am moved to this new room, I am to either stay near you, or in the small other room I was originally in? Is that right, sir?”  
“Near me, in that room, or with the escort I assign you. As it was my idiocy that brought you here, I have been assigned the 'prestigious' position of your caretaker.” I made certain to emphasize my detest on "prestigious." It was utterly degrading for one of my hue to be forced into acting as some kind of substitute lusus for a rustblood, but I would be loath to callously disregard the orders of the Highblood.  
“U-understood, sir.”

Based on the tone of her voice, that wasn't the whole truth. “What is it?” I growl.  
“Is there... anything you want me to do, sir?”   
There was nothing to do but tell her “Return to the room for now.”  
“I will do anything to stay out of that room, sir.” She had returned to that fear-tinged rapid fire of words.  
“What do you find so repulsive about it?”  
“The entire room, sir. The cramped feeling it has. I am... not one for small spaces, sir.”  
“Convincing the chefs to make you that meal taxed my relations enough for today. Such a favor will take time and all present are on edge due to your arrival.”   
“I understand sir. Still, you have my thanks. It was unbelievably kind of someone of your status to do such a thing for me.”  
“Didn’t I already say mistreating of guests is not something I care to partake of?”  
“Yes... several times. This kind of grace is seldom given to those of my position." She smiled again, her refusal to meet my eyes making it almost... heartrending.  
“You seem to have a tendency to reiterate yourself in favor of simply recognizing that there is nothing more to say.”  
“Well, yes, that's a part of it, and I really want to stay out of that room, sir. Unless of course you wish to explain what was going on at my shop, since I now seem to be a part of it.”   
“A risk such is that is too great for any sane troll to take.”  
“Once again, I understand..." She paused again, her visage turning to an emotion that should have been accompanied by the slapping of her palm across her forehead.   
"Oh how rude can I be? I have not introduced myself.” She began to bow, but I cut off this ultimately futile gesture.  
“I already know your name. Anyone with the spare change for a newspaper knows it.”  
She blushed lightly, the maroon hues on her gray cheeks seeming to change in some way. The lower castes did not take to organized crime as the nobility did, and I preferred to avoid association with them altogether.

“What is your name?” she asked lightly.  
Stoic as ever, I responded “Equius. That is the only portion of my name you will be receiving, and it is all you need of it.”  
“That's a lovely name for an indigoblood, and I really think it's actually fantastically fitting.” Her expression of nerves turned to a small smile, as if a burden had been taken from her shoulders. I was unable to make sense of it at the time.  
“Don’t bother to explain. I do not see how it is 'fitting,' nor do I wish to.”  
“I was not going to sir. Just filling the silence until my new room is done. According to you." She had begun to babble again. "Are you always this stern with guests?”   
Her frankness was a small shock. Remaining stern and detached was a part of the profession, but I did not think I carried it to such extremes.   
“How so?"   
“I guess a better term just be that you're incredibly distant or I guess kind of imposing?” She continued to babble.  
“That is none of your concern.” I responded quickly to her, narrowing my eyes under the cracked glasses.  
“As I stated, I was just trying to fill the silence.”  
“I would focus on keeping silent about what has taken place recently.”  
“I am just wondering about my keeper, and I will sir.”

Another blush came up again, so soon after the last. She spoke up once again, shifting the conversation to a much stranger subject.  
“May I have the honor of... looking up into your eyes as we converse? Or would it be... unfitting... because of our class disparity?”  
“As ponderous as I find such a request, I believe my bringing you here warrants at least that.”   
Once that had been granted, she nodded and slowly lifted her head up, somehow making the conversation that much more personal. Without my infamously cracked glasses there would have been nothing preventing her from taking a look at my eyes and seeing their direct gaze into hers.  
“Thank you, it seems more respectful on both ends.”

My hand seemed unconsciously drawn to to the broken stub that once had been called a horn. The gesture drew attention along with the hand, and her eyes visibly widened as she caught sight of it.   
“Now you see why I prefer my headwear on business.”

What came next shocked me, even more than her extremely recent and blunt statement of my demeanor.  
“I like it.”

Had my glasses not been in place, she would have seen how I was blinking as if I was dazed.  
“What?”  
“Must have hurt like shit though when it happened.”  
There was nothing to do but shake my head and sigh. There really was nothing else to do in response to half of her words and actions. No matter how much uncharacteristic grace she possessed, the grime in her veins was omnipresent.  
“I understand that such methods of expression are appropriate in your former area of habitation, but such mannerisms are not taken well here.”  
“Oh, sorry, it's just, I can’t even begin to grasp how much that would have hurt. But yes, I am fond of it.” Her eyes drifted from the jagged edges of its snapping back to my face with another sweet smile.  
“I don’t see much appeal in it.”  
“It is character really. Symmetry is nice but breaking it shows character. Plus, shows you can take a lot and still keep going.”  
“Are you implying this is my own handiwork?”  
“No, no, of course not. Unless it is, of course.”  
“No.”  
“Thought so. No one can take that much pain and have it happen because they did it to themselves. Still amusing.”  
“How so?” She was actually making my interest in what she was saying peak.  
“Just is, are you embarrassed by it?”  
“It stands out too much for my tastes. Hence, my preference for headwear.”  
“Say you weren’t in this business, would you still have that preference?”  
Once again, my only response was a shake of the head. My life has been The Family since I had left the caverns.

“I can’t imagine another life.” It was truth, cold as the bodies of the interfering police at her antiques store and hard as the teal-stained dirt road in front of it.   
“As I can never imagine coming into such a life. Guess I’ll have to start trying until I’m let go or dead.” A shiver ran down her body, the thought frightening in the way chucklevoodoos are.   
“No, you won’t be ‘coming into’ anything. Our affairs have nothing to do with you, and if you attempt to make them about you, the result will invariably be elimination.” My arms folded across my chest, the inevitable wrinkles in the suit of no concern to me.  
“You brought me into this you realize. I know how a scant few things work in this business. Not because I was in it, but because I have had close friends killed because of it. There will always be someone looking over my shoulder to ensure I don’t step out of line. I didn't say I was coming into it either.”  
“What ‘friend’ are you referring to?”   
“It’s not important.”

I seemed to have scared her again. She simply strode to the nearest wall, pressed her back to it, and slid down, bringing her knees to her chest as she neared the floor. Even at this pitiable gesture, I did not ease off in the least.  
“Then do not bring it up.”  
“Why did you ask then? It was a passing thought until you asked.”  
“Because you seemed intent on bringing it forward.”  
“That was not my intention.”  
“You have control over everything that comes out of your mouth, so it must have been.”  
“Not so, you may have thought it was. But my intention was to point out that thanks to you bringing me here, I’m now living the rest of my meager sweeps within your family's view.” She laughed a dry, humorless, almost deranged laugh. I chalked it up to nerves and continued. “So it would behoove you to remain silent about most anything you see here.”

Her answer was yes, with an addendum of “But aside from my explorations in old ruins, this is the most exciting thing I've been a part of.” She moved from her position against the wall and had the audacity to sit at my side, as if she had brashly assumed she was my equal.   
“Intimidation must also factor into it, of course.”  
“Well, you have the strength of an indigoblood, while I can toss you through walls with my mind. So in a sense we are, in combat terms, equal.” I could tell she was trying to think of a way to add "should it come to that" without it sounding strange, but gave up.  
“Is that a threat?”  
“That's just what I mean, you're doing the intimidation thing right now. And no, it was only an observation. But I know you won’t hurt me. Yet, anyways.”   
She was beginning to traverse topics she had no right to. “Do not press your luck.”  
“I am not trying to, as stated, I am just observing.” She laughed and yawned, this second laugh grating my nerves much more harshly, but the yawn signalled that I would be able to sleep, rather than continue in a foul temper.   
“Keep your observations to yourself.”  
“Maybe I will. Since I let them be known to you, they point out flaws.” Another grin. If she continued acting in this seemingly intentional aggravation, I would not be responsible for my actions. “But I will stop now.”  
“Finally.”  
“I’m still scared out of my wits about being here. The nerves are just gone so I can stop shaking and think more clearly.”  
  
Without bothering to reply, I pulled my sleeve up to take a look through the cracked glass of my watch. I stood and began to head off, with her almost naturally at my heels. I turned back around, retrieving a length of cloth from one of my pockets and blindfolding her. She had no objections, not even nonverbally expressed ones. She seemed to understand my reluctance to take the chance of revealing any more of the manor to her.

I placed her hand on my shoulder and guided through a long hall, past numerous other members of The Family before I turned towards a door. Once I had opened the door and ushered her within, I untied the blindfold for the sake of acquanting her with her new housing. There were only two doors, the one I had entered through and a second, leading to an adjacent chamber.  
“Do not leave this without my permission, and only if you have someone as your guide. The other door is to be firmly shut at all times. If you open it, the matter should be unbelievably critical.”  
It seemed as if my words had not reached her ears. She was too busy filing through the bookshelf and had already selected some item or another for her enjoyment. I left her to her own devices and locked the door between her dwelling and the hallway, then opened the door I had advised her against opening. Little does she know that these are my quarters she lies next to.

Enforcer Zahhak


	3. Journal #2

I was sitting on the bed that my host has provided me, reading over one of the few books that were on the shelves of the room I was given. I was actually getting to the good part, for I have read this book over before, when I hear a loud slam of the door to my room. I was so used to the quite it really did surprise me, causing the book to fly out of my hands and onto the floor next to me. I almost jumped out of my own gray skin! With a disgruntled sigh, I get off the bed and pick up the book, giving whoever entered an angry glare before realizing it was Equius. He gave a pitiful cough in trying to cover that up, naturally not doing well. I looked down and around before giving my red eyes back to him.

 

“Just passing through to your room, I assume?” I asked, knowing that I was right.

 

“Actually this is for a dual purpose. One of them is what you just listed, and the other was to make certain you haven’t made a mess of our affairs sense my last observation.” He retorted.

 

            “I’ve been stuck in here, the room you provided me. I have not been out of the entire building in a week, so why check up on me anyway?”

 

            “Our ‘guests’ becoming stir crazed has been a very real concern in the past.”

 

            “Do you really think I am stupid enough to try and bust out of here?” I ask, angry that he would even suggest such an idea. Granted, it has passed my mind once or twice.

 

            “Not leave, more or less make some sort of display of your dissatisfaction.” His voice grew firmer as he said this.

 

            “Why would you give a shit anyways? Yes, yes I know you treat your ‘guests’ with some dignity but they must have been higher than me. Everybody is, after all.” I spit.

 

            “Do you honestly expect to receive any such dignity with a mouth of that sort?” He retorted, trying to prove his point my swearing was a bad habit.

 

            I just huffed a little, before letting out a long, drawn out sigh before giving him a stern look once again. Only thing I could come back with was, “I generally curse to prove a point, nothing else.”

 

            “If you require obscenity to prove it, you only show yourself as uncouth and lacking of wit.” A chuckle came from him, as if it was cleaver to point something out like that.

 

            “Well I haven’t had too much schooling; unlike someone of your status.”

 

            “You must have had some basics of education to be able to run a shop such as that.”

 

            “All I can remember is math and reading. I always thought math was fun and really simple, and reading just came natural to me.” I always did get lost in books; my lusus would scold me for reading so much. Then I continue with, “I read a lot but do not grasp the language. It is about where you grow up and where you come from, the speech patterns you pick up is a product of where you are for most of your life.”

 

            “Is there even a point to this or are you just trying to excused your lax tongue?” he grumbled lowly. His blue eyes bore into mine, but I would not back off.

 

            “Oh come on, you must have cursed before.” I retort.

 

            “I will not even justify that inquiry with a response.”

 

            I gave up. “I am getting a little bit of cabin fever though.”

 

            “Exactly why I came to take a look in the first place.” He pointed to me, as if finally getting too the true point of why he came.

 

            “What of it? Like you guys of a higher class really care.” I was already becoming irritated, but to calm myself I held the book closer to my chest. The cool leather actually did calm me down, just a bit.

 

            “We care about our possessions and would like to see that their safety is assured.”

 

            Okay that touched a nerve, saying I was less than the things around this place. What was there to break anyways? A bookshelf that could be rebuilt, same with the wooden chair and desks. Only thing of real value in here really was the lamp, and I needed that at night to read. I just raised an eyebrow to him before closing my eyes, rubbing them, and shook my head.

 

            “Don’t give me that look.” He ordered, snapping me out of my moment of silence.

 

            “Can’t take it back, so deal with it.” I return, with the same sort of rudeness that he gave me.

 

            “No, I refuse to. Apologize immediately.” Oh, an order. This might be a little fun, I have been rather bored.

 

            “Make me.”

 

            “I have 100% of the means to. Have you forgotten where you are girl?” Anger came from him; it was so easy to push his buttons.

 

            “If you wanted to kill me, you would have already. Now wouldn’t you?” It was true, I have been alive in this building for over a week, I knew it, and they have not decided my fate yet.

 

            “Death is not always the best way to make an example of a rustblood like you.” He took a single step closer, as if trying to threaten me. It did not work. I just rose my eyebrow to him again, questioning his actions. This only angered him more. “What have I told you about giving me those looks!?”

 

            I chuckled. “You just told me that. What do you want me to do, keep a blank face? Am I now not allowed to even make faces anymore?”

 

            “Quit looking at me like you have even a single say in what goes on here.”

 

            “The looks are just that Equius, looks.”

 

            “Looks that express disapproval that you have no right to possess.” That mouth will get him punched in it, one day I honestly swear.

 

“It was questioning? I can’t question at all, even in my own head?” Now I was just trying to confuse him.

 

“So why do both in the first place?” he questioned.

 

“That I am keeping to myself, thank you very much.”

 

“No, you are not.” He ordered again.

 

Time to push his buttons again. “Make me.”

 

“If your diet was reduces to irregular supplies of bread and water I doubt you would be anywhere near as uncooperative.” He threatened. An idle threat, meant to be nothing more than that, just a threat.

 

            “I survived on less. Try staving for a little over a week to keep a good ration of food over a winter. I highly doubt your high ass could do such a thing.” It was true; I had to survive on little food and took handouts in order to survive. Yes I did have my shop, but that is where most of my money went. I could get rid of it, but then where would I live? Couldn’t afford a home.

 

            “Of course I have no need to partake in such foolish deprivation.” Great, bragging.

 

            “You wouldn’t understand or survive how I have to.” I spit at him again. He took another step closer to me, his tall, muscular body hidden under a dark gray pinstriped suit looming over my own. Black hair tied back, and cracked glasses overlaid his eyes, hands in tight balls at his sides as if holding back from hitting me. My heart jumped a little, but I kept my breathing steady.

 

            “Do I need to repeat myself?” He growled, his face twisted in irritation and anger.

 

            “Oh no, I heard you.”

 

            “And you still insist on acting like this?” his fiery voice threatened again.

            Just…one last push. “You are not going to do anything anyways.”

 

            He calmly reached forward with his left hand and latched onto my horn, holding it with a vice grip. It did hurt, but I was not going to back down. The pain was like that of when I was younger, cold and going numb from it. My horn slowly did the same thing, and my mind kept going at the pace that it was, it was not slowing down regardless of my situation.

 

            “Care to repeat that?” he urged.

 

            “You aren’t going to do anything. Read my fucking lips you high ass snob.” I said each word slowly and deliberately, positive he heard me right. If he didn’t then I guess I would have to repeat myself.

 

            His hand shook with the rage that flowed through his own veins. His restraint was more than what I gave him credit for, but that would not last for any longer. I knew this, because my horn started to creak in protest. In that instant, I closed my eyes and gritted my teeth trying to get the pain out of my head. I even tried as hard to push away from him, using my force against him with all of my might. But even with all of the pushing and pulling I was doing, there was no letting go of my horn.

 

            “Cease this struggling before you lost your horn.” His voice broke through the pain, but I did not listen. I kept on struggling.

 

            “Then let go!” I screamed.

 

            “No. Apologize now.”

 

            I went to kick his shins, thinking if he went down he would let go. He stopped me.

 

            “I will do it and leave you to deal with the consequences.”

 

            I gritted my teeth, getting rid what little pride I had left, and dropped my head. “Fine them; I am sorry you are a royal ass.” I chuckled. “But really the apology won’t mean shit.”

            “What was that, rustblood?”

 

            “You are a royal ass. Even this apology won’t mean anything. I am sorry for how I acted.”

 

            “Horns make particularly special souvenirs.” He commented, giving the hint. That pain was still throbbing by the way.

 

            “So you saved yours too?” Sarcasm was dripping from my voice. He didn’t catch it.

 

            “Who are you to be asking questions here?”

 

            “That was sarcasm. Well I apologized. So are you going to let me go?” The pain is getting too much, my vision was getting blurry.

 

            “Will you cease these blatant displays of insubordination?” He responded.

 

            “Y-yes I will stop. Now please…let go.” I beg.

           

            “Repeat it so I am certain this is not a trick.”

 

            “I will stop, h-honest.”

 

            He let go of the horn and kept looking at me with a scowl on his face, not caring in the world to break eye contact. I just looked down at the floor, not wanting to look up into those angry eyes. Small whimpers came from me, because the area around the base of my horn pulsed with pain with every beat of my heart. My hand traveled to the area around the base, and I quickly shot in air as an agonizing pain shot though my body straight to my brain as if I was slammed on the side of a head with a two by four. My hand retracted quickly from the sore spot to not cause any more of the unsettling pain, knowing it will hurt for the next few days. Slowly as if looking up to the face of a god, I looked back up to Equius.

 

            “I could just have easily left you like myself.” He bluntly declared. Yeah, well no shit.

 

            “Y-you didn’t though, thanks.” I snakingly respond.

 

            “Now do you have anything else to squander my time with?”

 

            My big mouth blurts out without thinking, “Aside from the fact I am still going stir crazy, no.”

 

            “That will be reported and dealt with at our discretion.”

 

            “Fine then.”

 

            “Perhaps some of the less liked personal will be sent to deal with someone like you.” That threat was most likely going to be backed up with something, what I have no idea.

 

            “Oh so you’re liked, aren’t you?” It is what he implied by that statement.

 

            “I will not dignify that either.”

 

            “Oh really, you just answered it. Thanks. Does the highblood still have no idea when I can leave?”

 

            “No.” That was a quick answer.

 

            “So he does know?”

            “No.”

 

            “He doesn’t?”

 

            “Correct.”

           

            “Damn.”

 

            “Your. Language.”  Words said separately, great I pushed another button.

 

            “What? Oh come on, damn is bad? It is short for condemnation. Fine, what about hell?” I had to at least have some leniency, with the little bit of a filter I have this might be a bit easier to slip by.

 

            “No.” Fuck, really?

 

            “It’s a place for god sake!”

 

            “Only when used in context.” Well he did have a point there, but none the less. I just delivered my palm to my face, causing a shock to the head which made me wince in pain. Damn it Aradia why did you do that?

 

            “I suggest you come to terms with it.”

 

            “I will slip up, you realize this. Can you at least handle that?” I had to at least warn him. I knew that I had to work out some system to be able to catch myself for when my tongue slipped up. My mouth has less of a filter than a drunk.

 

            “Only if you agree not to resent the reprimanding due for this relaxation of verbal constraints.” I have no idea what the hell he just said there.

 

“Fine.” I guess that was a good answer.

                       

            “Now may I leave you with the promise that this will be the first, _and the last_ , of your antagonization of The Family?

 

            “Unless someone actually tries to kill me, yes.”

 

            “Good.”

 

            “Then unless you have any parting concerns my time here is over.”

 

            “You’re just going to your room aren’t you?”

 

            No answer, he did.

 

Aradia Megido


	4. Journal #3

 

            I was rubbing my horn, it just being sore now sense just a few days before my lovely host grabbed onto it and nearly ripped it off. It hurt, was tender, and I really wished that it would just heal up quickly. Keeping my eyes closed and sitting on the bed, I rubbed moved my hands away from the horn itself to around it seeing if that would help it any.

 

            “It _still_ hurts.” I grumble shaking my head.

 

            “As it should.”

           

            I jumped up, alarmed some at how easily this big lug of a guy can walk around and sneak into a room like this without me hearing him. Maybe if I was to do that I could get out of here, I am tired of being kept in this stupid little room and want to go out. Doubtfully I would be able to, I would be a liability and they would most likely have to kill me if I make a bolt for it. However a compromise could be reached, or so I only hoped!

 

            “You are getting better at that by the day.”

 

            “Not all of my skills are overt.” He responds coldly, like the blood in his veins.

 

             “Anyways, are you just passing to your room again?” Inquiring, a good start.

 

            “Yes, what is it to you?” Equius responded, being as crude as ever.

 

            Time to try and strike, I only hoped that it would work. “I will eventually try and get out of here. It has been a little over a week and I have been in this same room for the entire time.”

 

            “And you can expect to stay much longer.” A quick response came, matter-of-factly.

 

            “Considering how slow the Highblood is, yes I can expect to be here a while.”

 

            That tripped a nerve. His hand clenched into a fist before he crossed his thick arms over the breast of his black and royal blue pinstriped suit, which seemed to be tailored just to him.

 

            “I will not have you speak slander of the Highblood, rustblood.” He says, the words a low growl with a less-than-subtle threat within.

 

            “W-well it isn’t slander, really it is fact. He hasn’t chosen if he wants to keep me, kill me, or let me go.” I was hoping that I really didn’t tick this guy off at the time. Having a broken horn and maybe some bruises on my gray skin would not be the best thing for me at the time.

 

            “This is a critical decision.”

 

            “Can we just go out or something, please?” I begged, whining in my voice at the time.

 

            “And where do you think we should visit, if I even decide on the possibility of taking you out?”

 

            “I really do not care.” In all honesty I didn’t. I just wanted to get out of the stuffy room that I have been in. A troll can only handle the same walls for so long until they start to get stir crazy.

 

            “Think of something then. I absolutely refuse to answer aimlessly.” He was still crude, if not harsher than before. It was scary really, but he didn’t kill me yet. That had to be something.

 

            “A tailor I guess. It is my only thought. Or maybe even the market.” My mind was racing, hard to keep up with the ideas of where we could go if we did.

 

            “Just how do you think it would look for someone of my status to even been seen near someone like you, much less buying cloths for a lowblood like you.” It was insulting, trying to get to my very core. When will he realize I don’t care about my blood? And just because I was one of the lowest, well the lowest but that is beside the point, doesn’t mean he has to buy the stuff for me. So in return I just narrow my eyebrows and state that he doesn’t have to buy me anything.

 

            Obviously he was not going to try and make himself believe that. “What would the point of a visit without purchase then?” He had a point there, but lucky for me I had a stash. I told him about that and his face did not get any slacker. My skirt at the time was still tattered around the bottom with strings going everywhere, still had a bullet hole in it where it clipped my thigh and it only got bigger and tore down to the bottom, still caked in dirt and has my red blood on it. My blouse wasn’t any better, sweat turned what little white there was yellow and the fringe was hardly even there. I just needed a new outfit in general.

 

            “Don’t you think it would have been looted by now?” he retorts, still as bitter as ever. He seemed to really not want to go.

 

            “Doubtfully. There is a safe under the floorboards of my shop that I only know where it is. Only a person would know where it is if they decided to try and stand where furniture was standing on top of. So I can bet it would be secure.”

 

            “Where did you acquire the resources necessary to hollow a cavity out?”

 

            To that I chucked, “The fact I have a shovel and too much time on my hands. So can we please go? You do not even have to be close to me. Not that you would want to be.”

 

            “It is doubtful we have any transport worth sullying for such a trip.” He pointed out. Yeah right, I know that this family has a couple of cars to be able to travel as they wished.

 

            “I can walk for miles; I never owned a car or were driven anywhere either. It is really a matter of if you can.” I just sighed a little bit before shaking my head; maybe I should just tell him the truth. “Look I am just going stir crazy in this room, day in and day out. I just want to get some fresh air is all. We do not have to go anywhere in particular; I just want to get out.”

 

            “Is the literature not suitable?” he inquired. He looked over at the bookshelf with a handful of books on them, varying in size and what they were about. Most were leather bound and dusty and old.

 

            “I read them all, there is only so much books can do. Come on, please?” I just smiled to him, keeping my eyes open to him. I was really hoping that he will say yes, I was desperate to get outside.

 

            He just looked at me; I could not see his eyes though the sunglasses he wore all the time. There seemed to be a shrug with those broad shoulders. “Your clothes are an eyesore. I suppose some replacement would be required.”

 

            “All I really need is a skirt. My blouse is fine. Isn’t it?” I looked down at it. It was ruffled with a cold sweat, and stained to an extent. It was rusty red and black, and the lace that was around the collar has been torn and stained. Even the white buttons have started to come loose over the years of being worn. My skirt was worse though, holes tattered though it and stained with my blood.

 

            “It looks like you are in a sack.” Quick to insult there buddy.

 

            “Well I thought it was fancy from where I got it. I thought it looked nice, or at least from where I got it looked nice. But fine, I won’t argue with you.” If it got me out of the room quicker, I will agree with him all day.

 

            “The tailor will be unhappy at being forced to deal with the hue necessary for your sign.” He pointed out.

 

And I did not care in the least. “It isn’t my fault that I was hatched this way. Anyways are we going, or...not?”

 

            “We are.”

 

            “Okay, should I get something to cover my eyes?” Next thing I knew, he took off his tie, tied it around my head, picked me up and off we went.

 

             When we got far enough away he put me down and untied the tie around my eyes and put it back on his neck. It seemed as if he had a blindfold in his pocket he got on the way out there. He pushed through the crowd like a bull, shouldering his way through the city. He was moving fast and it was hard to keep track of. I couldn’t catch up to him but I could see him easily because he was so tall. I did eventually catch up and snatched ahold of his hand just so I do not get lost from him in this place. I had no idea where I was or where we were going. He did turn his head to look behind him then down, making sure that I was behind him I suppose. When we did get to the tailors shop, I let his hand go quickly and admired the front. It was more ornate than any of the shops in the slums, very unique and so much...higher than myself. I gulped, scared to go inside the place. He seemed to notice.

 

             “Turning back now, are we?”

 

            “I just want to know if I will be safe in there.” I told to him.

 

            “You have been brought here in my charge; at worst you will receive mildly suspicious stares.”

 

            “Granted looking at your history and what happened you see why I am apprehensive.” It was then I walked up next to him and I waited for him to go in first. No way was I going to.

 

            When we entered, the door slammed on me. When I entered the bell on top rang again. The troll behind the counter did not look up to Equius, playing chess like he had all the time in the world. Yet once the bell rang again and the door shut after I entered, he did look up. He only had one eye, the left one was covered in bandages for some reason. He had a confused look on his face before he raised the only eyebrow that wasn’t covered. I just looked back before moving quickly over to the mafia member, wanting to be safe. Really I just had no idea that I could do in a place like this, so I was just going to let him handle it.

 

            “Alright Zahhak, either you explain or this girl leaves.” He had a very snarky, high pitched voice which caught me off guard. The kind of voice that would get on ones nerves easily when someone had to talk to him for long periods of time. That black hair of his seemed kept well enough, washed but still had oil in it from just this morning. It was pulled back out of his face, as if he wanted someone to see the bandages around his eye and have them ask what happened to him. His only eye that was looking at us was teal, showing he was the lowest of the highbloods. This guy was lanky and mid-height, probably a few inches taller than I and a few inches shorter than Equius. His hands were steady though, he knew what he was doing with them every moment of every day. He had to. He was a tailor after all. Small fangs came out from under his black lips, normal for trolls.

 

            “Was the usage of my surname meant to make me as inferior to you?” he responded. I guess he did have that superior complex, sense he was born with it. I only chuckled internally at the situation. The tealblood only rolled his eye before turning back to the chessboard. I just stood there stiff, like a manikin on display in his windows.

 

            “No, it was meant to fix my damn eye. Now shut it with the superior gag and tell me why you brought her to me of all trolls.” Obviously he was not pleased in the least with me, probably because of my blood color. Equius only responded saying that I was an eyesore, yet he needed me around. I was embarrassed as anyone could be in the situation, so I just looked down and kept my mouth shut for now.

 

“You’re paying extra for this Zahhak.”

 

“Paying extra?! On top of your outlandish fees for ensured silence?!” he yelled. Okay, I guess it did cost this guy a lot to keep him quite. But hey, that family did what they had to do.

 

“I don’t work for free.” He was calm to a slowly raging blueblood, lovely.

 

I only just stood there and giggled a little bit, watching them bicker between themselves. It was amusing, like watching two dogs play tug of war with the same stick. I looked up to the tealblood before giving him a gentle smile, regardless of his attitude.  He only gave me a glair and said, “Stuff it. A smile won’t get you a discount.”

 

“Hey, I told him I could pay. Guess he decided to be a gentleman and wish to do it for me sense we did not go to my old shop. So it is up to him not me if he is going to actually do this.” I explained. I bet that he would not believe me though, being the cast that I am.

 

“If you were the one paying I would ask who you stole it from.” Yep, knew it.

 

“I didn’t steal it from anybody; I earned it myself at my shop.”

 

“Yeah, and the other guy in here has both horns.”

 

If there was one thing I wasn’t, I wasn’t a thief. And I was not going to let anyone, not this guy, not a seadwller, anybody tell me or think anything different. I just narrowed my eyes to him and lifted him up with my powers. Instantly I felt a hand on my sore horn, and it was a firm grip. This guy will not let me do anything, will he? I should have been thankful for going outside the room at least. I just sighed and said, “Fine, I won’t toss him through a wall. I’ll drop him as soon as you let go.”

 

“You first.” He retorted, stubborn as ever.

 

“And now you know exactly why I don’t let lowbloods in my shop.” The tailor stated. Yeah, if he dies, he got what was coming for him.

 

I dropped the tealblood on his ass and once that happened, Equius let go of my horn. I looked over to him and saw the strain on his face, like he was holding back from something. Like what?

 

“Are we going to do this or not?” I asked. We stood there for a little while, so either I was going to get my new cloths or not.

 

“If you refuse to behave I have no qualms about ending your life.” Equius declared. His patience was running thin; I could see it through his sunglasses.

 

            “He means it. There has been blood in this shop before.” The tealblood pipes in. Two highbloods against a lowblood, typical. I still had a few words of my own to say.

 

            “He didn’t kill me at my shop, why would he kill me now?” Always the point I can bring up and poke at because it is true.

 

            “Because you’re assaulting the only tailor around who would actually put up with this.” He reminded me. He was right, and I just mumbled, “True, I guess.” His face got angry and he yelled that there was no guessing there, it was true and I better get used to the idea. Very in the face this guy was.

 

            “Can we please just get this done and over with.” I pleaded again, tired of waiting.

 

            “If you’re going to say here, I don’t want to hear another word out of you.”

 

            “I second that.”

 

            I looked to the last one who spoke, Equius, and gave him a look of dissatisfaction. Then I pointed out that we could have gone to the market but he insisted on the tailor.

 

            “As my last words then will be these. Fuck both of you.” With that I zipped my lips and had a self-satisfied look on my face. I could only guess that the blueblood did not like those last works, considering the fact he wouldn’t even allow me to say hell. I watched him as his jaw got tighter and he clenched his hands into tight fists. I couldn’t help but have a bit of satisfaction.

 

            “Easy there Zahhak. I’m not paying for another wall.” Guess they had bad business in the past. I only thought _I can toss him through a wall before he even touches me._ I just made the hand motions of shouldn’t we get on with this.

 

            “Step away from the only one who seems to think you’re worth defending. And I can take this as slow as I please. Who do you think you can demand something of me in my own business?”

 

            To this I only shrugged and stepped closed to him, wanting to him to just start and get this over with already. He met me on the outside of the counter and pulled the measuring tape off his shoulder to make sure everything was accurate. I raised my arms when he told me to, and he made no attempt to try and hide his murmuring. It was along the lines of “Too high to put up with this crap.” I only looked down at him, and did not talk, with the look of “Fuck you” written all over my face. He saw it, good. He gave me an unpleasant look before he just stopped taking measurements of my body. The tealblood looked me dead in the eye with his one eye and slowly lifted his bandages to show me his other. It was a cold steel sphere in place of where his eye should have been, and there were crude semblances of the eye around it, there was even a scar under it. It was ugly looking, but I have seen worse on worse looking trolls. I just shrugged to him, unaltered by it in the least. I then just lowered my arms and sighed. He put the bandage back and moved down to measure my legs, and I only thought of if he tried to do anything I will kick him. I looked over to Equius, not so much for comfort, but to make sure nothing bad would happen if he did try something. He gave me nothing but a cold scowl that he wears all of the time. I sneered back at him before taking a step back, figuring that the tailor was done with his measuring.

            “You’re in luck for once. I was hoping to delay you even more and have to make something myself, but I actually do have something that’ll fit. I would just need to put your sign onto it.” He said that with disgust laced in his voice. He was not happy in the least about all of this.

 

            “Problem is that is it in my color? Sorry for talking.” I pipe up. I knew I shouldn’t have talked, but no matter I had to ask.

 

            “I stock the bare minimum of that rust. It should be enough.”

 

            “How long will this take?” I asked, trying to be polite.

 

            “For your information, as long as I want for it to take.” He spat back.

 

            “Fine I will go explores the middle class ring of the city then.” It was then I started to make my way over to the door, not wanting to stay here.

 

            “Good luck finding this place again.”

 

            “I doubt Equius would let me out of his sight for long, and you will not let us leave without your payment.”

 

            “You’d be astonished at the population of cerulean in this borough.”

 

            “Well do you want me to stay here with him the entire time? Or go and take care of some stuff? For some reason I think Equius, you would hate to stay here with him.” I point out. Equius only looked at him before he shook his head.

 

            “It would be best for both of us to stay, to not draw attention to ourselves.” He pointed out. I guess he was right.

 

            “May I look around as you make the dress, please?” I asked him. I was not going to stand it one place as the guy made my dress.

 

            “Look, but don’t touch.” With that he walked into the backroom, and the sounds of a sewing machine started up only a few minutes after he entered it.

 

            I just walked around before going over to the purple and indigo blooded cloths. The designs are nice, perfect for someone of that cast. It was long and flowing, made of the finest silks and embroidered with stones of lower casts used elegantly. The purpleblooded outfit had them in the design of skulls, happy faces and crazy sad faces. It fit it well. Then a voice rang out to me and nearly made me jump out of my skin.

 

            “I expect his behavior served as a reminder of what situation you are in at the moment.” Zahhak spit out. Guess he couldn’t stand the quite.

 

            “Look, I get where I am. But look at it from my point of view. If you guys wanted me dead, wouldn’t I be dead already?” I inquired. It could be the chance for him to answer.

 

            I got no such luck. The tailor came back, saving the blueblood from having to give me an answer to the question I kept asking. He draped the dress over his arms and then laid it on the counter. I turned around and walked over to it, my hands behind my back not going to touch it. It was a black dress that fell down to my mid-thigh, with strings of beads falling down to my calve. More black beads came up the dress, in different shades of blacks and grays that swirled around the curves and started to trace off on the back of it. What stood out the most were the red beads that came up from mid-stomach up and curving around the breast in my symbol. The previous beads contoured to it. It seemed very mid-class, higher than me anyways. Granted, everything was higher than me.

 

            “Take it or leave it.” The tailor rings in, cutting though my haze of admiring the dress.

 

            “Should I go try it on first, or something?” I ask, unsure of what else to say.

 

            “I measured it for your body.”

 

            “Okay, well...”

 

            “Do you doubt my handiwork?” he challenged me.

 

            “It’s not that. I’m just shocked. It is beautiful.”

 

            “Slum girl experiencing the city live for the first time. Stick a finger in my mouth and gag me.” Yeah, he was a lovely person. So wonderful to talk to, and full of compliments.

 

            “I like it; may I go put it on?” I asked.

 

            He nodded over to Equius before spat out,” He’s paying for it first.” With that I nodded to him and took a step back. He stepped forward to the counter and pulled out his wallet counting out the cost of the dress, and a little extra to keep the guys mouth shut about this. I looked at his wall, seeing it was very low-class for someone like him.

 

            “This is really kind of you Sir.” I told to Equius.

 

            “First you doubt my motives, now you address me as Sir.” He sneered. There was no pleasing him. I watched the tailor sigh before going back to his chessboard.

 

            “Well it is just...never mind.” I took the dress and head into the changing room, coming out in it and I was smiling from ear to ear.

 

            “Good, you now at least look presentable.”

 

            “That’s the closest thing I am going to get to a compliment from you, isn’t it?” I was still grinning wide.

 

            “I refuse to dignify that with a response with an answer.” Typical.

 

            I just laughed and walked by him before thanking the tailor and stepped out of his shop.

 

            When I left the shop, I walked around waiting for him to come out. It wasn’t long after he pushed open the door and adjusted his hat. Maybe I could push my luck a little more.

 

            “Well the night is still young, may we walk around please?” I asked.

 

            “I see no reasons why not.” He responded quickly.

 

            “Well do you want to lead or let me lead?”

 

            “I hold some element of interest in which urban areas lowbloods peruse.”

 

            “I can bet you don’t want to be seen with me though, do you? Or next to me anyways.”

 

            “I am capable of holding my own against mere thugs.”

 

            “Not what I meant, but okay.”

 

            I started to walk off down the street without another word, towards the more populated area for shopping. I heard his footsteps not long after mine, far enough away to avoid association with me but kept his sight on me. I went along the streets, laughing at all of the bright lights before I turned and took off down another street. It seemed to be main street. I was amazed at everything, and I was just ecstatic to have been in that place. I stopped at a window, looking at other cloths and books and other things, noting how different it was from the slums. I knew I was being followed by Equius, but I knew he wouldn’t hurt me. I wished he would just calm down and enjoy himself too. I looked at him and grinned wide before going back to watching everything in awe.

 

            I wondered off again before turning down another street, to get out of the huge crowd. It seemed like a street that you would want to walk in pairs just to be sure. I was breathing quickly from the excitement that I was just in, and waited for Equius to catch up. My eyes watched the shadows and they saw someone trying to call me over to them, right down an alleyway. I wasn’t stupid, so I told him to come here with my motions.

 

            “Don’t be so suspicious, I’m just trying to give you some directions. You look like you’re looking for someone, and with those cloths, my guess is that it’s a partner, if you get what I am saying.” I could see his white teeth grinning.

 

            “Oh hell no, it is nothing like that. I just had to get away from the crowd.” I told to him.

 

            “Alright, as if I believe that, but do you want directions or not?” he demanded the answer. His voice was high pitched and annoying, and I think I’ve heard it before. I just crossed my arms and looked at him.

 

            “This is a shortcut to the apartments I know you’ve been looking for.” What...did he think I was a....oh fuck no!

 

            “No, it isn’t anything like that.”

 

            “I’m trying to help, alright?” he complained. That was when I got ahold of that voice.

 

            “Wait, I regonize your voice. Yeah, you’re the one who took me to the bathrooms in the manor.” Yeah, it was that guy! I knew it was, he was always an asshole and he was continuing to do it now.

 

            “You’re obviously thinking of some other dipshit.” He retorted.

 

            I sighed before shaking my head. “Look I am going back to the main street. Bye creep.” With that I turned and started to walk swiftly back to the main street.

 

            The next think I knew was that he grabbed onto my arm and started to drag me back to the alleyway. I jumped a little before turning around and trying to elbow him while trying to pull away. He wrenched me back and put one arm around my neck, not chocking me yet but restricting my movements before I felt something cold against my head. Then he tightened his arm around my throat, forcing me to try and focus on breathing. I let out a quick gasp and a slightly muffled scream before black spots clouded my vision. The next thing I knew was I was hearing voices. I heard a click. Shit! It must have been a gun. I think only a few seconds went by, I would bet money on it.

 

            “That’s a nice little blueblood. Wouldn’t want anything to happen to your precious little charge, would you?” he taunted. He put more venom into the word charge. He eased his arm just a little, still having my arms pinned and neck in it, and put the cold metal gun against my temple.

 

            My head was swimming, swirling around some before I could get air into my lungs. My vision was clouded, and I could hardly focus on something. When I realized what was actually going on with my eyes, I gasped loudly. Not so much in surprise, but I really needed the air. It kind of helped my vision.

 

            “What the hell is going on here!?” I screamed out. His response was that the arm on my windpipe was tight again. It kicked that gasp right out of my lungs. My eyes trailed over to Equius to see how he was going to handle this.

 

            “Isn’t it obvious you bitch? We’re making a trade.”

           

            “Exchanges with any sort of scum of your sort are below me by several miles.” Equius retorted. His jaw was tight and so were his fists. My eyes must have shown fear, because it was most likely what I was feeling at the moment. “But I will pretend to humor you, state your terms.”

 

            The guns barrel went from my temple and aimed right at his chest. He jerked his arm against my neck; I would have only guessed compensating for the lack of immediate threat to me.

 

            “You for her.” Simple enough.

 

            While they were bickering, I did my best to try and get ahold of the situation at hand. He had one arm around my neck and the other holding the revolver. He only had two hands, and my arms were free but a little numb. My eyes looked over to Equius, and I tried to hint to him to keep playing this guy’s game for a bit longer.

 

            “Explain then.” He ordered the oliveblood.

 

            “No, I won’t explain, you high and mighty heap of shit. It should be pretty fucking apparent if you’re anywhere near as great as you like to show yourself off as. But if you are as dense as you’re putting off right now, let me put it simply enough so that the rotted fucking mess you call a brain can grasp it. Either you come with me, or her brain ends up on that nice wall over there.” He was serious too. The look in his eye was crazy, he had a job and he was going to do it. His voice didn’t shake nor waver with his voice or body. He was going to kill me if Equius didn’t follow the plan.

 

            “You’ll be doing my job for me if that happens.” I fucking knew it!

 

            “So he did decide to kill me.” I stated, I just couldn’t keep my mouth shut. The response I got was the arm tightening around my windpipe again.

 

            “I say you could talk?” he asked forcibly. I could only cough and yell sorry at that moment.

 

            I saw Equius slowly reach behind him under his jacket, to try and get what I expect to be a gun. Yet I wasn’t the only one who saw it, the oliveblood holding me saw it too. He turned the gun and fixed the end of the bore on his chest. I started to sweat a little bit.

 

            “Fucking drop it. Take it out; unload it, and very fucking slowly put the magazine and pistol on the ground.”

 

            Equius complies, retrieving the semi-automatic from his belt and held it up, the side of it facing the assailant. He releases the magazine, letting it fall to the ground with an uncomfortably loud “CLANG,” setting the pistol beside it.

 

            “Now, are you going to come quietly, or will I have to come back to some pissed-off fins?”

 

            “I haven’t agreed to come with you yet. Cease your jumping to conclusions.” He retorted.

 

            It was then he put the gun to my head again.

 

            “Sorry, what that a fucking demand?” he spits at him.

 

            “Why in the hell are you doing this?” I ask him.

 

            “That is for me to know and you to wonder the rest of your shitty existence.”

 

            “If I die I just wanna know why.”

 

            “Same reason the world goes ‘round. Money.”

 

            “Who paid you?”

 

            “No more questions.” He ordered. It was then he started to choke me again, putting the gun back to Equius’s chest. I gasped loudly and tried to pull his arms down with my own, yet it hardly did anything.

 

            “Make your choice now, Zahhak. You want her dead or alive?” he persisted.

 

            Equius only gritted his teeth and clenched his fists. Though those teeth he growled, “You can leave her be.”

 

            Now was just a good of time to make my move. I shoved my hands up and his arm back, aiming the gun away from his chest and away from me. “You son of a fucking bitch!” I screamed at him as this happened. I then elbowed him in the nose trying to get him off of me. He stepped back and shoved me away, alternating the gun between threatening me and Equius. I turned around and charged him before tossing my elbow against him and yanked the gun away from him and held it to his chest.

 

            “Who’s the bitch now?”

 

            “You, obviously.” He spat back. He raised his hands in surrender.

 

            “Don’t test me.” I growled. The gun was shaking in my hand; the trigger could go off any second.

 

            “What other kind of girl would just steal a man’s gun like that?”

 

            “Who. The fuck. Hired you.” I say slowly, making sure he heard me.

 

            “What, did you suddenly get your sense of hearing back? I said if he didn’t come back quietly, I would be facing some pissed-off fins. Draw your own fucking conclusions.”

 

            “Fine. Equius, do you want to do it, or me?”

 

            “I would prefer neither of us do it.” He scorned me.

 

            That caught me by surprise. “Why!?” I yelled. I growled a little, not liking it in the least.

 

            “He will be used to deliver a message.”

 

            “He threatened my fucking _life_! And yours!” I screamed out to him, not happy in the least with his idea.

 

            “All the better.” He responded, calm as can be.

 

            He then proceeded to stride over to the greenblood and yanked him up by his furred collar, forcing him to look at him face to face. I on the other hand lowered my gun and slowly took a step back.

 

            “The fact that either of us has survived is sign enough we’ve been severely underestimated.” He then looked back at the latent captive before continuing. “Tell those filthy sea dwellers this will be replayed by 100% and then 100% of that.” With that he shoved him off, breaking at least a rib or too. I then shot him in the knee; I had to have _some_ revenge. Of course, he fell to the ground clutching it as the olive blood poured out of it.

 

            “And them a message for me.” I spit

 

            “And just...how the hell...am I supposed to deliver anything...when I can’t fucking walk?!” he screamed.

 

            “Easy, it is called limping there.”

 

            “Shut the fuck up and give me what I won’t be able to say.”

 

            “Don’t ever try and use me like that again. Now go, filthy vermin, before I throw you there myself.”

 

            “If it happens, it won’t be me.”

 

            “I told you to go. Better go before your arm will be blown out too.”

 

            He somehow managed to struggle to his feel, or rather, foot. The leg attached to the ruined kneecap is almost entirely nonfunctional. When he finally left and was out of sight, my legs could no longer hold my body as I dropped to the ground. It was probably from shock and relief. Yeah my knees hurt after, but it did not matter. I dropped the gun along the way, making a loud clank sound as it hit the cement.

 

            “Did you have to keep his weapon?” Equius asked. I almost forgot he was there.

            “Yes.” I replied, shaking.

 

            “You can’t exactly carry it in plain sight. Especially with those convulsions.”

 

            “Who said I was? Take the damn thing.”

 

            He reached his hand out to take it, and I more than willingly gave it to him.

 

            “Hey, come here please.” I plead.

 

            He took the gun and flicked the cylinder out and unloading it completely before he tucked it away and kneeled next to him. I looked up to him before giving a wary smile, shaking still. I just couldn’t stop myself.

 

            “This is what you have to live every day of your life, isn’t it?”

 

            “Threats and endangerment are less than rare, yes.”

 

            I leaned in and rested my head on his shoulder. No idea why, but I did.

 

            “I feel sorry for you, but in a way I am also sorry for that happening.”

 

            “It is the life I chose.”

 

            He put an arm over my shoulder and ducked under my other one, helping me to my feet. I put my arm around his waist before standing up with him, leaning against him mostly sense my legs can hardly support themselves for the time being.

 

            “Thanks.”

 

            “Only a courtesy.”

 

            “I mean, for not telling him to shoot me. I guess you can say you don’t want me dead.” Well there was when he said that if he shot me it would be doing his job for him, but I bet it was a bluff.

 

            “Now do you understand? It was meant to keep you in line.”

 

            “Look, I won’t give you a hard time to much anymore.”

 

            “You shouldn’t have in the first place.”

 

            “Keep talking like that and I will still be trouble.” I laughed.

 

            “Fine.” He grumbled.

 

            “But still. Now that I kind of get what you go thought. I won’t be much of a hassle.”

 

            “Not by comparison.”

 

            “Just,” I sighed, “God he was right. You can be thick at times.” Then I laughed.

 

            “Perhaps for the sake of effect.”

 

            “You still gonna blindfold me to get back to the manor?”

 

            “Regrettably, yes.”

 

            I shrugged some, expecting it really.

 

            “Just not to night, okay?”

 

            “Was it to tight last time?”

 

            “A little. I could feel my head throbbing a bit.”

 

            “My apologies then.”

 

            Slowly I started to get feeling back into my legs. “Hey, I think I can walk on my own now.”

 

            “Are you certain? I wouldn’t wish for you to stumble and present any passerby with a certain view.”

 

            I chuckled a little bit before nodding.

 

            “I never did say thank you for the dress properly. So...thanks.” I tell to him.

 

            “Should I expect repayment at some point?” I guess the mafia and wanting of money ran in the blood.

 

            “I can try if you want. I just don’t know how. Aside from actual money of course. And I guess you are feeling a little protective of me now, aren’t you?” I teased him. I had to calm down some way.

 

            “Mildly.”

 

            “Well all of the shock and everything is gone, so I should be able to stand.”

 

            It was then he slowly started to step out from under my shoulder, holding his hands out just to be sure if I fell he could catch me. I took a breath to calm myself before holding myself up easily.

            “See, now that everything has passed. I can walk.”

 

            “Even blindfolded?” he inquired.

 

            “So long you guide me I should be fine. We have to walk a while though, don’t we?”

 

            “It seems so.”

 

            “How fast do you have to report this?”

 

            “Whenever we return. It should be soon, but I doubt any of our assorted informants were witness.”

 

            “Do you think we can walk a little slower back? Just so I can see this place before I am back in that room for as long as the highblood sees fit.”

 

            “I’ve granted you enough at this point that such a request is effectively nothing.”

 

            I was a little shocked. “Wait, you mean so long I have someone around, I can leave? Or rather, see the city?”

 

            “The request would need to be approved beforehand.” He stated.

 

            “But, because of this, it might be easier?”

 

            “You’ve certainly proven yourself strong enough.”

 

            “Then why not just let me go completely?” I whined. I was tired of being under their watch.

 

            “Because you still possess information.”

 

            “What information? I mean really, I can keep my mouth shut easily!”

 

            “At the moment, the question is what happens when pressure is applied.”

 

            My hands balled into fists before I pointed in the direction that the other guy took. “Then why not just see for yourself how much I can take! I mean hell! You just saw what I can take!”

 

            “But there were no inquiries there, merely death threats.”

 

            I looked at him before walking over to a wall and lean against it, not giving up.

 

            “I just want to be let go.”

 

            “It’s simply too great a risk.”

 

            “If you can, please, I know I am asking a lot for a captive. Do you think you can speed along the process?”

 

            “My influence is nowhere near strong enough to accelerate such a process as this.”

 

            “But can you at least try?”

 

            “Things have yet to cool down entirely sense you arrived. I can’t without seeming impudent.

 

            I sighed and shook my head to him. Looking back I ask, “How long will it take? I know you said a while, but I mean really, what is your best estimation. I have been there for over a week.”

 

            “The closest I can offer is three fourths of a pegriee in total.”

 

            I looked at him angry before I shook my head again, not happy about this in the least.

 

            “The media has lacked any spectacle for some time.”

 

            “So they want to use me and your family as a pivot point?”

 

            “The lack of explanation for this will draw them further.”

 

            “Why am I getting the idea that once you tell them about this, the process might speed up. I doubt it, but I have that feeling. Just...shall we start going back then?”

 

            He ignored me. “Have you seen enough of the city? Turn around if you please.”

 

            No, we haven’t even started on our way back for me to look at things. I rather not pester him to much anymore. So I complied and turned around for him. He winded the blindfold around my head, tying the knot not as tight as he did before. At least he listened and was considerate. I feel it tight against my head but it was fine. I turned back around and held a hand out to him for him to guide me. He takes my hand and started to head off back towards the manner. I could hear him explain to anyone that stops us that I am blind and he was acting as my guide. A good disguise I guess. I could only smile a little as I picked up the pace to get a little closer.

 

            After a little time I asked, “Are we almost there?”

 

            “Nearly.”

 

            After a little more he finally opened up a mildly creaky wooden door and guided me inside. I gripped on a little tighter to him and followed swiftly. He kept bringing me along, and I could feel the wooden floor turn to plush carpet by how my feet landed on it. He was guiding me back to my room. Once I got in there I took off my blindfold and turned around to look at him.

            “We’re here.” He stated.

 

            “I can see that. Glad you can scare people off so easily on the streets. I guess it is getting kind of late though isn’t it?”

 

            “Perhaps.”

 

            “Well, I am guessing there is nothing else you will be doing tonight.”

 

            “What use would you have for that information?”

 

            “No reason really, I am just assuming.”

 

            “But that is correct, I have no plans. Assuming I’m not given any surprise assignments.”

 

            “Alright then. Well I kind of want to go to bed, just, not with you standing there watching over me.”

 

            “I will be in my own quarters, obviously.”

 

            “Yeah, well.” I fiddled with my hands a bit and just walked over to him and hugged him. “Thanks for doing everything tonight. And for not telling him to kill me.”

 

            “Haven’t I told you I object to senseless death?”

 

            I thought he was just going to stand there cold and stiff as usual, but instead he gave me a soft pat on the head. I guess it was better than nothing. I pulled back and walked over to my bed and jumped in it, turning out the light and going to sleep. I didn’t change out of my dress because I knew he would see something. I could hear him turning the other light off and the soft door shut to his room.

 

Aradia Megido


	5. Chapter 5

I had decided to pay a visit to one of my closest associates on the outside, although “associate” may be a misnomer. She paid no protection money to the Family and, in fact, seemed oblivious to the suits walking into the nearby establishments and walking out with their pockets full. I can not fault her. If she became wise to this, she would be endangered. Her boutique would go unmolested if it meant I would go without food.

            Business was typical for her in that her shop was empty. If I bothered to remember the state of her tables, I'd say that it looked like she had sold absolutely nothing. Then again, she had some kind of compulsion to rearrange the place on a weekly basis. Even if none of her stock moved, she would never go under. Not while I had the slightest access to funds. Her shop was her life and I could not bear to contemplate her on the streets.

            Her mood when I arrived was typical: exuberant. She rushed from organizing the stock on display to embrace me. On principle, I refused to return the gesture, no matter how endearing I found her efforts to wrap her arms about my frame.

            Her first question was “Where have you been for so long?” It had not occurred to me that I had been gone for any significant stretch of time. Still, I suppose the sight of me reassured her.  No matter. There was a single answer to give her: “On business.” Then to make the point absolutely certain, I added “That I can't tell you about.”

            She took offense to that point. “You can't tell me about any of your business!” she seemed to whine. The necessity of my secrecy had begun to wear on her, apparently, as she then complained about how my mannerisms are “always 'I can't tell you' this or 'it's a secret' that.”

            I regret how clandestine I must be with her. It was frustrating to both of us. She could not complete what was required of her as a moirail to the best of her abilities if I failed to tell her of what was causing me distress. No matter how much I despised repeating myself, there was no other option when dealing with her. “It's for your own good. You're better off not knowing.” Trite, but simple. I would rather be understood than original.

            Petulant as ever, she refused to back down. “Oh yeah? Well name me one!”

            “Why most of my waking moments are spent soliciting assorted businesses. There's your one. Don't expect to receive any more.”

            I lack an understanding of why I continue to associate with her. She behaves so much like a wiggler. She turned her back on me and gave a “hmph” when her argument was defeated. I told her not to do that and she told me, verbatim, “too bad,” because “she just did.” As if taunting me, she said that I did not own her. I told her that I could come close through my connections. Her mentality is an absolute unknown to me. She, quite bluntly, told me to “screw my connections” and asked me what benefits they offered.

            Then she took a different turn by claiming that “she knew my secret.” With no better options presenting themselves, I had to ask her what she thought it was.

            “On the inside, you know you won't heart me.” She followed the simple statement with the most   impish wink I have ever seen. I was forced to hold my tongue and clench my fists to maintain my composure.

            Which she also saw through. “You're beclaws you know I'm right,” she teased, needlessly extending the I in right for the sake of exasperating me. “Zero option” was an excellent summation of my state. I conceded and said as much, added that it was only to make this business easier then continued onto the ulterior motive for my visit.

            “I'll cut directly to the point and away from this provocative tangent. What do lowbloods like?”

            She cocked her head, her smile slowly fading. I had no doubt not said anything like she was expecting me to say. She asked a pointless “What?” once the shock had worn off, then resumed her former demeanor. “Equius, there's like a fourth of all trolls that fall into that!” Characteristically, she appended “Or something. I don't like numbers! But the point is...”

            I cut her off. “I'm not here to argue semantics.”

            She objected. “I can't help you with just that!”

            Which led to me inquire “Why not? They all seem equally despicable and filthy. It would make sense for them to share other qualities.”

            This was even more objectionable to her than my last statement. “Get off your high hoofbeast for once!” she pushed; I responded by stating that I was quite comfortable on my pedestal. She seemed to be at her wit's end, judging by the groan I elicited. Her next set of actual words was disheartening. “Well if you're so happy there then I'm not stepping up to help! And that's that. Every troll is unique and they all have different purreferences. You can't just lump them into one big category like 'lowbloods' like that since it's just way too big in the first place anyway!”

            The concessions I was making are astonishing in retrospect, even with the constant verbal admissions that they were for the sake of breaching an impasse. Yet she agreed to the compromise as well, although the reluctance to do so was more than evident as she bitterly told me she was only agreeing because “guessed it was all she was going to get,” then she suggested we “start with something important.” Which was, to her, apparently my particular reasoning. The only suitable answer was “business.”

            She agreed not to ask at that point, rather testy in her resignation. Next question. “Can you at least tell me what this one in particular is like?”

            My voice failed me as I gathered my thoughts, only allowing “She” out of my mouth. She was delighted at my mistake. “Oooooh, what was that, Equius? You, and one of those filthy” (she mocked my accent at this point) “lowblood ladies getting together?”

            The stoicism necessary to my vocation had crumbled enough. No more agreements. “I'm not listening to this. Make all the accusations you like, they're baseless. One hundred percent of them.”

            To which she only giggled, told me “okay” in a gratingly roguish tone, and winked at me.

            “She has expressed interest in the literary,” I explained in an attempt to divert the conversation to its original course. The natural request for elaboration was “What kind?” When I told her the answer was “Historical,” she mimed a hyperbolic yawn. Moderately vexed, I asked her if she did not believe what she had just told me about different trolls having different fondnesses. She responded, cheery and curt, by telling me she didn't have to like whatever they do. After an obligatory mention of how irrelevant her opinion was at the moment, we moved on.

            “Dancing” was an unsatisfactory suggestion for her. She told me she needed more than that. I told her that the lowblood in question was fond of historical artifacts. Typically oversimplfying, I was asked if she liked old things. Admitting my limited knowledge, I said yes, to which she responded by informing me that she didn't have any. I didn't expect her to, and explained as much. After a moment of ponderance, I explained that she had a suitable dress for polite society.

            “Equius, a suitable dress to you wouldn't have three yards of fabric and would be in dairybeast print! I bet it'd fall off if she took one little step.” I had no need of such an image but I had to admit its appeal. Internally, of course. Externally, I reassured her that it was decent. She said she “hoped so.” I didn't appreciate her casting doubt on my knowledge of respectable garments, but was cut off by an “Oh!” from her.

            Her next inquiry was as to whether or not she had shoes to “go with” the dress. The concept was entirely foreign to me and I presumed the proper answer was “no,” but to avoid seeming completely oblivious of the world of haute couture (as I've heard it called), I told her that I didn't think so.

            Nepeta was absolutely incredulous, stammering on “you” and “and” when she redundantly asked “You bought her a dress and no shoes?” Not knowing the source of her upset, “What of it?” was how I returned the hidden accusation.

            “I just can't even believe you!” If her intent was previously unclear, she threw her hands in the air; I was unable to miss the fact that they were now at my eye level.

            I didn't know what I had done. So I asked, and she explained that “The shoes are efurry bit as important as the dress,” then went on with “How did you not know this?”

            She should have known that I preferred practicality over aesthetic value, but I restated my unwavering perspective on the subject regardless. Continuing to critique my choices, I was informed that “Practicality my boot, there's some things you just don't do!”

            I interjected with a “But” as an attempt at resuming control of this figuratively sinking metaphorical ship. Heedless of my will, she pressed on. “No no no no! No buts! Not right now. Just listen here, Mister. It doesn't work at all, do you hear me? What you're trying to do here is... She probably has no good shoes at all! None, Equius! I don't doubt that the dress is real nice, but she's walking around in it with bad bad shoes!”

            “I don't need to imagine. I've seen it for myself.” An atrocious answer, under the circumstances, but I had to _attempt_ to show spine. “And...”

            “And, you didn't do anything?”

     “Why would I?”

She folded her arms and gave an irate huff as she turned away, obviously fed up with me. "Don't be like that." I hoped there was a medium of steel in my words; not enough to sound overly commanding, but enough to ensure the message made it across.

I had difficulty determining her expression from the back of her head, but she had very clearly had an idea, judging by how she napped her fingers. Before an interrogative could leave my mouth, she had snatched up a pen and paper from an apparent nothingness and began to scribble furiously.

The scribbles proved to be letters when she shoved the note in my face. "Bring her here and don't come back until you do! Now shoo!"


End file.
